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AN 



ADDRESS, 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 



NEW-HAMPSHIRE STATE LYCEUM, 



IN THE REPRESENTATIVES' HALL, 



AT THEIR 



SECOND ANNUAL, MEETING, 



June 5, 1834. 



BY JARVIS GREGG. 




PUBLISHED BY REQUEST Of THE SOCIETY, 




CONCORD: 
MARSH, CAPEN AND LYON 

18 34. 



ADDRESS. 



u Knowledge is power;" but knowledge is 
neither wisdom nor virtue. Knowledge is the mere 
furniture of the understanding ; the material in- 
deed, out of which Reason and Conscience build 
the fair structures of wisdom and virtue ; but the 
material too, out of which the passions often rear 
the monuments of folly and vice. Intelligence is 
to be estimated by its use ; applied to wise and 
virtuous ends, it is the greatest of blessings ; to 
pernicious ends, the severest of curses. 

Intelligence is, it is true, the vital air of a free 
government, the pure oxygen, without which neither 
life nor light can be sustained, which nevertheless, 
in a pure and unmixed state, is a virulent poison, 
intoxicating, maddening and destroying all who 
inhale it. As an engine of political power, a lever 
to move the world, intelligence has not been over- 
estimated 5 as the safeguard of liberty, domestic 
and private happiness and worth, its power has 
been miscalculated. Statesmen and philanthropists 
have reasoned on the presumption that men are as 
much inclined to good as evil 5 that ignorance is 
the source and universal intelligence the panacea 
of every political and moral evil. 

" Unshackle the press, multiply the means of 
knowledge, and pour the stream of science and 
political information through the opened channels 
of an intelligent public mind, and the country is 
safe. Give but the means of information to the 



people, and they will approve and maintain the 
right." 

This is the grand error of modern times. This 
presumptuous confidence in the goodness of human 
nature, this idolatry of science as the purifying and 
preserving salt of the nations, this contemptuous 
neglect of the only moral antidote of sufficient 
power to correct the evil tendencies of human 
character ; these are the ominous features in the 
philanthropic movements of the present age. 

It is not strange indeed that these views should 
obtain. One extreme usually succeeds another. 
An age of darkness and despotism has just gone 
by. The light of knowledge has dawned upon one 
hemisphere, and it is free. On a large portion of 
the other the mingled gloom of ignorance and ty- 
ranny still rests. From the midst of an enlightened 
and free population, we look out upon the degra- 
ded and enslaved nations of the Eastern Continent. 
We contrast our own situation with theirs. We 
stand upon a bright and proud eminence, from 
which the clouds have rolled away ; a clear sky is 
above us 5 a glorious sun is shining around us. — 
We are a spectacle to the nations. From the 
midst of their darkness, the eyes of the oppressed 
are lifted up towards us in eloquent hope 5 while 
the fiery and malignant glare of the tyrants, who 
gaze upon the light with terror and rage, tell us 
but too plainly how they "hate its beams." 

In such a view it would seem to be impossible 
to mistake the cause of this difference of condition. 
Wherever there is light, there is seen to be liber- 
ty. The intelligence of a people is found to be 



ordinarily a pretty exact measure of the freeness 
of their institutions, and of their public and private 
prosperity. How natural then would seem to be 
the conclusion that light, liberty and happiness are 
correlative and inseparable ideas 5 that all that is 
needed for the healing of the nations is the diffu- 
sion of knowledge 5 and that free governments, 
civil and social blessings, public and private in- 
tegrity and happiness, are the natural and neces- 
sary consequence of a diffused and general system 
of instruction. In all this view there is, as I appre- 
hend, a fundamental error, which I shall attempt 
to expose. 

It is now about twenty years since Mr. Brougham 
and his Whig coadjutors began to act upon the 
principles to which I have alluded. They had 
observed with admiration and delight the political 
phenomenon of a self-governing people. They 
had marked the steady progress of the American 
Republic during a third part of a century, in the 
full career of honor and prosperity. They saw, as 
they conceived, in the American system of general 
instruction, and the universal intelligence of the 
people, the secret of this successful experiment. 
They conceived the noble design of regenerating 
England. The most powerful minds in the 
country, through the Edinburgh Review and other 
Whig journals, plead the cause of popular educa- 
tion, with a zeal worthy of themselves and their 
cause. A series of bills were introduced into 
Parliament by Mr. Brougham, which, though they 
were all defeated, or so mutilated in their passage 
as to lose their principal efficiency, had yet the 



6 

effect to direct public attention to the subject of 
national education, and powerfully, though indi- 
rectly, promoted the cause. Failing in Parliament, 
Mr. Brougham next conceived the plan of bring- 
ing to bear on the subject of popular education, the 
most powerful engine of modern days, voluntary 
Association. Of the society for the diffusion of 
Useful Knowledge, its numerous publications and 
immense influence, as well as of the innumerable 
Lyceums and other associations, that have grown 
up under its fostering care, it is not necessary to 
speak. From being the teachers and models, we 
in this country have come to be learners and cop- 
yists. The societies and publications in England 
have waked up a spirit of emulation in this coun- 
try, which for a few years past, more than any 
thing else, except political discussions, has given 
tone and character to the public mind among us. 
Nor has the excitement yet subsided. The impulse 
is yet strong and vigorous, and the results of the 
experiment, (for it is still an experiment) are yet 
to be decisive, in no small degree, on the prosperity 
of the nation. 

It would have been well, if at the very com- 
mencement of these movements their authors had 
enquired whether the principles on which they 
proceeded were indeed " the truth, the whole truth, 
and nothing but the truth ;" whether in a calcula- 
tion involving the best interests of the world, not 
for the present generation only, but during all 
coming time, no error had been admitted in the 
data, which would vitiate the entire result, and 
disappoint the high raised hopes of the friends of 



liberty and human happiness. It would have been 
well if Mr. Brougham had weighed well, ere he 
uttered his famous oracle, "tyrants may well trem- 
ble now, for the school master is abroad," wheth- 
er it do indeed contain the ivhole secret of human 
freedom and happiness. For, we believe that this 
view is a partial one ; that an essential element of 
security and prosperity is overlooked in it ; nay, 
that all that has been done by these efforts merely, 
unless other and independent efforts are made to 
control and modify the result, will be productive 
only of incalculable mischief. We award cheer- 
fully to Mr. Brougham and his friends the meed of 
exalted patriotism and liberal philanthropy. Our 
sympathies are wholly with them, and against their 
enemies. The party of which they are the repre- 
sentatives, embodies the strength and sinew of the 
enlightened, high-minded and patriotic in Eng- 
land, the hope and confidence cf the world, the 
phalanx of European liberty. It is with pain 
therefore that we feel compelled to expose what 
we believe to be a fundamental and fatal mistake 
in their most cherished and favorite principles.— 
But there are higher principles than partiality for 
individuals, or attachments to a party, and truth 
and the vital interests of society are paramount to 
any feelings of delicacy or respect for authority. 
On the soundness, or unsoundness, the partial or 
comprehensive nature of the principles that shall 
obtain on this subject, are staked the hopes of the 
world for a thousand generations. Let us pro- 
ceed to examine them in the light of reason, and 
of the history of our race. 



8 

The old Roman cry was, " Give the people tri- 
bunes to guard their rights;" give the people 
knowledge, exclaims Mr. Brougham, and they 
will guard their rights for themselves. His great 
principle is, let an enslaved nation be enlightened, 
and there is no power on earth that can detain it 
from freedom ; let a free people be enlightened, 
and there is no power on earth that can reduce it 
to bondage. 

That intelligence is an essential condition of 
freedom is admitted ; whether it is the only essen- 
tial condition, is the question. 

What is the testimony of history? Passing by 
the eras of Ethiopic, Egyptian, and Chinese illu- 
mination, during which, if the lights of antiquity 
be not greatly magnified by the mists of obscure 
and imperfect annals, the human mind burst the 
shackles of ignorance to exult for a brief moment 
in its recovered strength, and sink again in bond- 
age and despair, we come to the age of Grecian 
civilization and refinement. A brighter period in 
the annals of the human mind does not relieve 
the dark pages of history. Grecian literature and 
Grecian art need no eulogist ; they admit of none. 
Their praises are inscribed on the ever-during 
monuments they have reared. By the unsolicited 
suffrage of the world, the Grecian models have 
been installed as the standards of eloquence,poetry 
and the arts. Nor let it be said that there was 
here a mere aristocracy of learning and taste ; 
that only a favored few were admitted to the ban- 
quet of knowledge, while the many were starving 
without. True, the people were not instructed 



formally and systematically in the schools of 
science. They were not taught to read ; nor if 
they had been, could they have been furnished with 
the means. But they were instructed in a way 
which was in some respects far better. The pop- 
ulace of Athens constituted one grand adult school. 
Orators, poets and philosophers were their teach- 
ers. The facts of their history, the achievements of 
their heroes, the glories of their ancestors were all 
treasured up in their memories in the enduring 
forms of eloquence and poetry. The poems of 
Homer and Euripides and Pindar were inscribed 
on the living tablets of the Grecian mind, if they 
were not mouldering in material forms on the 
shelves of the bookstore, or gathering dust in the 
unfrequented library. A Grecian ignorant ! If he 
did not know the diameter of Jupiter, or the height 
of a mountain in the moon, he knew what was far 
more important for him to know as a citizen and a 
man, the principles of duty as they were then im- 
perfectly developed ; his mind was stored with the 
maxims of philosophy and the sentiments of vir- 
tue 5 his memory was the storehouse of whatever 
had been wisely said, or felicitously expressed, of 
the thoughts that breathed from the most exalted 
patriotism, and the words that burned upon the 
lips of thesublimest and sweetest bards. 

And yet Greece is no more ; Greece, the land 
of intellect and thought and learning, lives only in 
the memory of the past. From the very point of 
her highest elevation, the era of her brightest in- 
tellectual developement, we date her decline. — 

The age of Pericles is at once her highest glory 

9 



10 

and her deepest disgrace. From that pinnacle of 
intellectual glory, dizzy with her very elevation, 
she fell to rise no more. Science, art, genius, 
taste, intelligence, could not save her. In the 
days of her comparative ignorance and barbarism, 
she was free. Cultivated, refined, intelligent, 
Greece was enslaved. The fruit of the tree of 
knowledge was too stimulating. She needed an 
element of sufficient moral power to control and 
guide the excited energies of her awakened intel- 
lect, and save her from the intoxication of knowl- 
edge. 

Rome does not furnish an example so much in 
point. The Roman people were never an intellec- 
tual race. Literature, eloquence and taste, were 
exotics in Rome 5 transplanted by a few careful 
cultivators from a foreign soil ; not the native 
growth of the national mind. Still there are lights 
and shades in the successive developements of 
Roman mind. The age of the republic, the era 
of liberty, was characterized by little that was 
cultivated in intellect, or refined in taste. A stern 
sentiment of patriotism indeed, an absorbing love 
of country that possessed many of the elements 
of sublimity, swayed during this period the Roman 
mind. But they could hardly be said to be at this 
time an intelligent, intellectual people. The in- 
troduction of Grecian models and masters in 
literature and philosophy near the close of the 
republic, commenced a new era. Many devoted 
themselves with ardor to literary pursuits. Native 
orators and poets and philosophers arose to sheS 
a transient glory around the dying liberties of their 



11 

country. The people were partially enlightened. 
It is not supposable that the people, to whom 
Cicero and Hortensius and Crassus spoke, and 
Virgil and Horace sung were less intelligent than 
their ancestors of a ruder antiquity. It cannot 
be that an audience, which is said to have risen in 
tumultuous confusion from their seats in the thea- 
tre at the mis-recital of a single verse, was less 
intelligent and refined than were their fathers, ere 
eloquence had uttered her voice in the Forum, or 
poetry attuned her harp in the theatre. The pop- 
ulace of the Augustan age must have been far 
more intelligent than that of any previous age. — 
And yet from this point we begin to trace the 
decline and fall of Rome. If intelligence did not 
hasten her catastrophe, it did not save her. Rome, 
like Greece, affords another sad proof that mere 
intelligence, independently of moral influence, 
which is an entirely distinct element of social 
character, is no sure safeguard to liberty, no in- 
fallible preservative of the social edifice from de- 
cay and ruin. 

In the intellectual developements of modern 
times, other causes besides the mere diffusion of 
knowledge have essentially modified the result. — 
Of these we shall speak in the sequel. Modern 
times however afford two examples exactly in 
point 5 France during the last century, and Eng- 
land at the present time. 

The brightest era in the history of French mind 
commenced with the reign of Louis XVI. A race 
of philosophers then arose, who for native talent, 
industry and zeal will not suffer perhaps in com- 



12 

parison with the philosophers of any age or coun- 
try. They were, alas ! fatally or wickedly blind 
to the true objects and ends of science. But their 
great ability and zeal cannot but be acknowledged. 
Unlike all who had preceded them, they directed 
their efforts not merely to the investigation and 
advancement of science for its own sake, or that of 
their particular caste, but to its universal diffusion. 
They sought to spread the leaven through the 
whole mass of mind ; to draw off from the grand 
reservoir innumerable rills, which might water and 
fertilize the whole face of society. Their concep- 
tion was magnificent ; their visions glorious. — 
Human perfectibility, the supremacy of human 
reason, the uninterrupted and unlimited progress 
of human Society, were the day-dreams of French 
philosophy. Their means were wisely selected. 
A multitude of powerful minds devoted their la- 
bors to the preparation of books, treatises, essays 
and tracts for the people. All France became 
one great school of philosophy. The stagnant 
ocean of mind was moved. Its agitation was 
deep, magnificent and grand. For a while the 
philosophers rode proudly and gloriously like 
Tritons amid the waves they had excited. But 
they had forgotten to provide the only trident of 
sufficient power to control and allay the storm.- — 
Science may excite and arm with irresistible might 
the powers of the human intellect ; but science 
alone cannot restrain and direct them. So found 
the misguided philosophers of France, when it 
was too late. When the disciples of the Encyclo- 
paedists, cut loose from all the restraints of con- 



13 

science and moral obligation, arose in the might 
of a philosophy, which promised to disenthral the 
human mind of all political and moral prejudice, 
and overwhelmed law, order and civilization with 
the violence of a torrent, the dreaming speculators 
on human perfectibility found that the spirits they 
had raised would not down at their bidding. The 
very weapons they had forged in the laboratories 
of philosophic seclusion, were turned against 
themselves. They had put the two-edged sword 
of knowledge into the hands of maniacs, or rather 
demoniacs, from whose minds were obliterated 
every sentiment of virtue, every idea of moral 
accountability. It was not ignorance that deluged 
France in an ocean of blood, and stained it with 
crimes at which humanity shudders. It was not 
an uninstructed, unreading populace, that perpe- 
trated horrors, which might make the sun in 
heaven hide his head, and turn the moon to blood. 
It was the intelligent philosophical disciples of 
the Encyclopaedists. It was unbaptized science. It 
may be said indeed that there was mingled with 
the pure science of French philosophy, an infusion 
of positive error ; that the healthful and nutritious 
banquet of knowledge was marred and poisoned by 
the intermixture of infidelity and atheism. And 
why, we may ask in reply, if knowledge be omnip- 
otent to purify and save, why were not these pois- 
onous ingredients neutralized by their more 
powerful antagonist ? Why were not minds en- 
lightened, expanded, quickened by the truths of 
pure science, proof against the seductions of er- 
ror ? Why did not such highly magnetized intel- 



14 

lects attract to themselves out of the heterogenous 
mass presented to them, only the pure ore of 
truth ? On the principle that mere intelligence 
is an infallible security against practical and po- 
litical mistakes, these questions are unanswerable. 
The true answer, as I shall in the sequel show, is, 
that the fundamental principle is false ; that the 
whole higher nature of man, the most important 
element of character, and the principal ground of 
the social state, is left entirely out of the ac- 
count. 

But if the French example be deemed irrele- 
vant, let us look at the result of the experiment 
in England. We have already alluded to the 
efforts made in England in behalf of popular ed- 
ucation, and the motives, which undoubtedly 
prompted them. I would not be thought for a 
moment to bring English philanthropy into com- 
parison with French philosophy. In their ori- 
gin, objects and means, the efforts of the English 
Whigs differ toto coelo from those of the French 
Jacobins. And yet the result in either case is 
nearly the same ; or if it differ, is a difference of 
degree, rather than of kind, and is owing entirely 
to the less mercurial temperament of English 
mind, and other merely adventitious circumstan- 
ces in their favor. So far as the experiment of 
the diffusion of mere science, unmixed with any 
moral ingredient, among the mass of the people, 
is concerned, English philanthropy has no ground 
of congratulation or boasting above French per- 
fectionism. The fruit of the tree of knowledge^ 
unmixed with that of the tree of life, has been 



1 •*■ 

lo 

found in England too, to be unto death. The 
process of demoralization and disorganization has 
kept pace with the diffusion of knowledge. With- 
in the last twenty years, during which these phi- 
lanthropic efforts have been made, crime in Eng- 
land has more than tripled. 

The parliamentary return March 29, 1833, 
shows an increase of criminal committals, which 
is altogether unprecedented. In 1812 there were 
6576 — which number by regular increments dur- 
ing twenty successive years, amounted in 1832 
to 20,829. In Scotland and Ireland the deterio- 
ration in morals has been yet more appalling ; — - 
crime in the former country having increased dur- 
ing the same period fourfold, and in the latter 
country sixfold. " If things continue at this rate, 
(says a writer in a recent review,) we shall have 
crime going on not as the square, but as the cube ; 
in twenty years, the criminals will be 60,000 an- 
nually in England ; in forty years, 180,000; in 
sixty years, 540,000 5 in eighty years 1,620,000 ; 
in a century, 4,860,000, or nearly a third part of 
the whole existing population." 

This is truly an alarming state of things. It 
indicates, if not positive viciousness, yet a radical 
defect in the system of public instruction. It 
proves conclusively, that if the efforts of the Ed- 
ucationists have not been directly accessory to the 
demoralization of the people, they have not pre- 
vented it, and are inadequate to the end for which 
they were designed. As an experiment on the 
supposed conservative, purifying influence of pure 
science, the English plan of popular education, is 



16 

an entire failure. It adds but another sad proof 
to the accumulated examples of history, that 
knowledge is only an instrument of good or of 
evil ; that independently of a higher and purer 
influence, instead of furnishing a healthy nutri- 
ment to the human mind, it turns to poison and 
gall ; instead of exciting to useful and praisewor- 
thy enterprise, it adds virulence to the malign 
passions, and aggravates the " wild rage of the 
lion," which my thologic fable makes Prometheus 
to have placed within the human breast. 

" Fertur Prometheus addere principi 
Limo coactus particulam undique 
Desectam, et insani leonis 
Vim stomacho apposuisse nostro." — Hor. 

Such is the voice of history. What now is the 
testimony of reason ? 

All sound philosophy recognises a threefold dis- 
tinction in human nature ; the physical, the intel- 
lectual and the moral. These are the body, soul 
and spirit of the old philosophers, and of the wri- 
ters of the New Testament. 

Education, properly so called, consists in the 
developement and exercise of these several parts 
of the man in their due proportions and degrees. — 
Education is therefore not only entirely distinct 
from Instruction, [as is evident on a comparison 
of their etymous, the former being derived from 
ednco, to draw out, to develope, and the latter 
from insiruo, to furnish, or store with,] but also 
from a partial or disproportionate developement 
of the human faculties. As there is an important 
distinction between knowledge and wisdom, learn- 



17 

ing and science ; as no accumulation of facts can 
make a wise man, no given amount of intellectual 
stores a philosopher, so is there an immensely 
greater and more important distinction between 
mental developement, and thorough education. — 
The former distinction, viz, that between the devel- 
opement and the mere furnishing of the understand- 
ing, is in itself worthy of an ample discussion ; 
especially as there is no distinction, which in this 
superficial age is more frequently confounded, — 
Indeed many of the so-called improvements in ed- 
ucation, the unending simplifications of simplicity 
itself, are based entirely on this fatal confusion of 
ideas. And the consequence, in respect to the minds 
of the rising generation is, that where one was dis- 
heartened by difficulties before, ten are rendered 
imbecile and nerveless for want of the necessary 
discipline now ; as the ordinary use of empirical 
nostrums, under pretence of aiding nature in every 
slight obstruction of her functions, makes ten dys- 
peptics and valetudinarians for life, where one is 
saved from a fever. But of this mistake, and the 
innumerable evils of which it is the prolific source, 
it is not my purpose now to speak. I shall limit 
my view to the more important distinction between 
mental cultivation and thorough education. Phys- 
ical developement, which is a constituent part of 
education, as I have defined it, I leave out of the ac- 
count 5 both because there is little skepticism in 
respect to the maxim i mens sana in sano corpore* 
and because nature neglected or abused here 
is sure to utter her remonstrances both speedily 
and in tones that cannot be misunderstood. 

Confining my view then to man as an intellectual 
3 



18 

and moral being, my position is, that the spirit 
cannot be neglected, or confounded with the under- 
standing in a professed system of education, with- 
out the most dangerous and fatal consequences. If 
man be admitted to possess a spiritual nature, 
powers that distinguish him from the intelligent 
brute, and make him the subject of law and moral 
responsibility, the developement and cultivation of 
these powers cannot be thought to be matter of 
indifference. If they exist at all (and who doubts 
it?)they are the distinguishing prerogative of man, 
the patent of his humanity, the image of his Ma- 
ker, wherewith he was stamped and sealed as the 
"heir of eternity." And can this higher moral 
nature be safely neglected in a system of educa- 
tion? Can the very attributes of our humanity, 
and the earnest of our immortality, and our partici- 
pation of the Divine nature be overlooked without 
detriment? These questions require no answer. — 
Reason teaches that all the powers of the mind 
demand attention and cultivation in proportion to 
their dignity and worth 5 and consequently that 
no system is worthy of the name of education, 
which neglects or overlooks these spiritual and 
higher faculties. The merely intellectual man, 
whose moral nature is dormant or dead, is a mon- 
ster and not an entire man ; he may be among men 
like a spirit from the world of pure intellect, but he 
is not of them 5 he has no sympathies with human- 
ity ; in his breast no sentiment of virtue inhabits ; 
he has none of the music of tender affections and 
sensibilities in his soul ; he is fit only for "trea- 
sons, stratagems and spoils ;" let no such man be 



19 

trusted. Burke has said, and with a depth of 
philosophy and felicity of expression, with which 
almost no other man could have said it, "Nothing 
can be conceived more hard than the heart of a 
thorough bred metaphysician. It comes nearer to 
the cold malignity of a wicked spirit than to the 
frailty and passion of a man. It is like that of the 
principle of evil himself, incorporeal, pure, unmix- 
ed, dephlegmated, defecated evil." Again he 
says of another class of purely intellectual men : 
66 The geometricians and the chymists bring, the 
one from the dry bones of their diagrams and the 
other from the soot of their furnaces, dispositions, 
that make them worse than indifferent about those 
feelings and habitudes which are the supports of 
the moral world. These philosophers consider men 
in their experiments no more than they do mice 
in an air pump, or in a recipient of mephitic gas. 
They look upon man and whatever belongs to him, 
with no more regard than they do upon the whis- 
kers of that little, long-tailed animal, that has long 
been the game of the grave, demure, insidious, 
spring-nailed, velvet-pawed, green-eyed philoso- 
phers, whether going upon two legs or four." 

It was from no superficial knowledge of the 
nature and effects of pure mental developcment, 
that Milton has represented the bad spirits in 
Pandemonium as earnestly engaged in the hair- 
splitting distinctions of metaphysical discussion. 
There is a dramatic truth in the representation, 
which redeems it from the imputation of its being 
a mere poetic license, or even one of the legitimate 
franchises of Parnassus. There is no tendency in 



20 

purely intellectual cultivation to moral develope- 
ment. The head and the heart are distinct and 
independent faculties of the man ; each has its 
appropriate aliment ; each demands its own pecu- 
liar culture. The neglect to furnish this food and 
training to the moral powers, leaves one whole 
department of the human soul uncultivated and 
waste, to be overspread with a rank growth of nox- 
ious and poisonous weeds. 

Enter our penitentiaries and jails: who are 
their inmates? The ignorant, the uninformed, the 
stupid ? Alas ! how often is the reluctant tribute 
of admiration extorted from the visitor, as he 
gazes on the intelligent countenances, keen eyes, 
and imposing presence of these caged tigers ! How 
often does the suspicion arise in the breast of the 
admirer of genius, whether virtue be indeed fa- 
vorable to the developement of the highest energies 
of intellect ; whether its proud aspirings, its lofty 
flights, its bold excursions be not repressed by the 
timid prudence of virtue. Who has not gazed with 
an admiration amounting almost to idolatry on a 
Byron perched in proud scorn on the highest pin- 
nacle of the mount of song — on a Napoleon, by 
the single might of his genius wielding the ener- 
gies of half a continent; — though he knew that the 
former had scattered mildew from his wings and 
flung perdition all around him, and the latter sac- 
rificed on the altar of his ambition more than a 
million of his race? 

Why then should it ever have been thought that 
mere intelligence in the mass of the people would 
be an infallible guaranty of security and happiness? 



21 

What is there in diffusion, that should change the 
nature of knowledge ? In the case of individuals, 
whose moral culture has been neglected, knowl- 
edge has quickened the propensity and enlarged 
the capacity for evil ; has let loose the tiger from 
his cage, and sharpened his appetite for blood. 
Why then should the experiment in masses be ex- 
pected to contradict all our experience in individ- 
ual cases? Why should this partial education be 
expected to do for a nation what it has never done 
for individuals ? If intelligent, enlightened indi- 
viduals have been found dangerous to society, why 
should it be thought that an intelligent community 
must of necessity be free and happy ? Or is it sup- 
posed that liberty and happiness exist only in the 
fierce conflict of discordant interests and opinions? 
that society is held together not by any power of 
moral cohesion, but by the opposition and balan- 
cing of antagonist forces? that forbearance, moder- 
ation, justice, benevolence are empty names, and 
that only in the clashings of power, the strifes of 
party-zeal, and the contests of discordant interests, 
lies the security for individual rights ? I know there 
is a philosophy which makes fear the only ground 
of the social union, and resolves all the finer and 
nobler sentiments of our humanity ^into the promp- 
tings of mere brute instinct, or the suggestions of 
a grovelling and selfish prudence. The disciples 
of this school may with consistency believe that 
mere intelligence in a people, as it makes them 
Argus-eyed to watch, and arms them with Her- 
culean might to assert and defend their rights, is 
a sufficient safeguard to liberty and happiness. As 



22 

right, duty and conscience find no place in their 
philosophy, they may well substitute brute force 
as the measure and the means of individual and 
public security. 

It would be relevant however to inquire of the 
advocates of this system, what is to limit and direct 
these antagonist forces, if they become exorbitant; 
what spirit is to ride upon the whirlwind and direct 
the storm of popular and party violence. If the peo- 
ple be secured against the oppression of one tyrant 
or ten, what is to save them from the more formi- 
dable jaws of the hydra-headed monster, faction? 

It will avail little to a State to cast off the vam- 
pires that are gorging themselves on its bosom, if 
its vitals are to be torn out and rent and trodden 
under foot by a swinish multitude. But an un- 
principled people will not be able to secure them- 
selves against a single despot. Even anarchy has 
its limits ; the tyrant may fall, but tyranny will 
survive 5 and from the boiling cauldron of popular 
fury, in which the antiquated forms of oppression 
are consumed, there will arise, as from the kettle 
of Medea, a new form of tyranny in renewed youth 
and increased vigor. Extremes meet ; despotism 
ever treads upon the heels of licentious faction ; 
and the misrule and anarchy of an unprincipled 
mob, however intelligent it may be, will ever be 
followed, as it was in Revolutionary France, by 
the rise of an iron military domination. On this 
very principle Mr. Burke was enabled to predict, 
during the incipient excesses of that revolution, 
the rise of Napoleon. 

If then fear is the only ground of the social state, 



23 

and mere power the measure and limit of encroach- 
ment on the one hand, and of forbearance on the 
other, if from the collisions of faction alone may 
the sparks of freedom and happiness be expected 
to be struck out, the only prospect before our 
world is that of the unending cycles of alternate 
despotism and anarchy. There are probably few 
among us, who are the avowed advocates of this 
gloomy system. If however there be any one who 
hears me, to whom patriotism, justice, benevolence 
are but other names for interest, policy, and philo- 
sophic selfishness, to whom all that is said about 
duty and conscience is unintelligible jargon, I can 
only say to him in the language of a Latin motto, 
inscribed under a beautiful flower, 

"Sus, apage, haud tibi spiro." 

Most of my hearers believe in the existence of these 
higher faculties and principles, and if they have 
been betrayed into a forgetfulness or neglect of 
them as elements in the character of the good cit- 
izen, it is an error of the head merely. Reverence 
towards God, love of country, attachment to civil 
institutions, respect for office and rank, all enter 
into the idea of a good citizen in the apprehen- 
sion of my hearers. The sentiments and sym- 
pathies of our common humanity are still warm 
and vigorous in our bosoms. Our hearts have not 
yet been put into the crucible of a heartlesss and 
brutalizing philosophy, till every finer and more 
etherial particle has been volatilized and driven off. 
We feel, if the sentiment have never assumed the 
form of an intelligible proposition, that affection, 
sympathy,morality,anda controlling and ennobling 



24 

fear of God are essential qualities of a good citizen. 
Our error consists (if with the statesmen and phil- 
anthropists of England, we have indeed fallen into 
it) in presuming that these qualities are the natu- 
ral and necessary product of mere mental cultiva- 
tion. Both reason and experience are against this 
presumption. It is based upon a false philosophy 
of human nature, and all history shows, that the 
energies of the human intellect, when excited by 
the stimulus of knowledge, and uncontrolled by the 
regulating powers of the moral man, are mighty 
only to destroy. Like the fabled Phaeton in the 
chariot of his father Phoebus, they sweep through 
the world, spreading consternation and ruin all 
around them. What then, it will be asked shall be 
done? Shall knowledge be withholden from the 
people, that they may be kept quiet? Is ignorance 
the sole condition of security? Must we admit that 
there is a literal as well as allegorical truth in the 
soliloquy which our great Poet puts into the 
mouth of the arch-fiend ; 

"Yet let me not forget what I have gained 

From their own mouths ; all is not theirs it seems ; 

One fatal tree there stands of knowledge called, 

Forbidden them to taste ; Knowledge forbidden ? 

Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord 

Envy them that ? Can it be sin to know ? 

Can it be death ? And do they only stand 

By ignorance ? Is that their happy state, 

The proof of their obedience and their faith ? 

O fair foundation laid whereon to build 

Their rum ! hence I will excite their minds 

With more desire to know, and to reject 

Envious commands, invented with design 

To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt 

Equal with Gods ; aspiring to be such, 

They taste and die ; what likelier can ensue ?" 



25 

If the poet had intended to describe literally 
the effects of merely intellectual cultivation, he 
could not have selected apter thoughts or more 
felicitous expressions. The picture is drawn to 
the life ; the eyes flash 5 the muscles swell ; and 
the figure "lifts up its head, and addresses itself 
to motion like as it would speak." Of knowledge, 
independently of the developement of our moral 
instincts, it is literally true, that we "taste and 
die." 

But there is an elixir of life, which can 
save ; a moral ingredient, which mingling with 
the powerful tonic of knowledge, can prevent the 
unhealthy,feverish excitement,which is unto death, 
and stimulate to powerful and safe action all the 
energies of the mind. Let the people be instruc- 
ted. Let the streams of knowledge be sent abroad 
in copious irrigations, over the face of society. But 
let not these streams water only the wild native 
growth of the fields, or the poisonous plants, which 
accident or malice has sown. Let the seeds of 
moral culture be scattered abroad with a liberal 
hand, and let their plants be trained by the labors 
and cares of the diligent cultivator. No other 
means can ensure a rich harvest. Thorns and bri- 
ars will else inevitably preoccupy the ground. — 
Reluctate as men may at the doctrine of human 
depravity, it cannot be denied that while vice 
shoots forth with a wanton and luxuriant energy, 
virtue is a plant of slow growth. Diligent effort 
and assiduous care are requisite in order to bring 
it to maturity. Let the people then be instructed; 
but let them be also educated. Let their intel- 
lects be stored with the principles of science, but 
4 



26 

let their hearts too be imbued with the sentiments 
of virtue. Let the powers of their understandings 
be developed ; but let the faculties of the spirit 
be also called into exercise. 

But how T , it may be asked, shall this be done ? 
What is the appropriate food of the spirit ? What 
is the best means of that training which the moral 
powers demand? To these questions unhesitating- 
ly and boldly I answer, The gospel of Jesus 
Christ. In the great historical picture of the 
human mind, two figures stand out in bold relief: 
Science in the struggle to free herself from super- 
stition, tearing herself rudely away from the em- 
brace of her sister Religion ; — and Religion, 
disdaining her natural alliance with Science 5 — the 
one mad impiety, the other weak and puling bigotry. 

How true a picture is the former emblem of the 
present state of the public mind ! How r very gen- 
eral is the impression, that institutions of learning, 
literary and scientific associations, journals, reviews 
&c. should either carefully avoid all connexion 
with religion, or recognize it only in such barren 
generalities, as leave it scarcely more subsistence 
than an empty shade from Erebus, 'vox etprceterea 
nihil.' In nothing is this unreligious, not to say 
anti-religious tendency more apparent than in the 
operations of the societies for the diffusion of use- 
ful knowledge and other kindred institutions. How 
careful have they been to exclude from their pub- 
lications every thing of a religious character ! — 
Among their millions of books and tracts, what 
single treatise has the parent society in England 
put forth, (if we except a brief history of the Church, 
a mere soul-less skeleton of facts) which even re- 



21 

cognizes the christian religion as an element of 
individual or social character ? It is no apology 
to say that public opinion demanded such an ex- 
clusion. It is the office of reformers to guide and 
control public opinion. He has but a partial 
knowledge of human nature, and has read the his- 
tory of our race to little purpose, who does not 
recognize in the New-Testament the grand specific 
for every human ill ; — a moral medicine, which 
while it quickens the understanding, purifies also 
the heart ; while it clears the vision to perceive 
truth and right, prepares the affections to em- 
brace them. The author and governor of the 
human mind must be admitted to know best the 
discipline its powers demand. What madness then 
to neglect the means of culture, which he has fur- 
nished, and attempt to substitute for it expedients 
of our own. We might as well blot out, if we 
could,the sun from heaven, and think to bring back 
the day by encompassing ourselves about with 
sparks of our own kindling. 

In the spirit then of reliance on the wisdom of 
the Divine mind in giving man the gospel, and I 
trust, in that too of an enlarged and catholic inter- 
pretation of it, which distinguishes between the 
letter and the spirit, I avow my settled conviction 
that the gospel is the only true and safe basis of 
education. Men cannot be educated without it ; 
their moral powers cannot be fully developed and 
brought into action independently of it. What 
may be true of a few philosophic minds in the se- 
clusion of their closets is no safe criterion, by 
which to judge of the mass of mankind, buffeted 
and jostled in the crowd and exposed to all the 



28 

temptations of actual life. The philosopher in his 
porch, or in the groves of Academus may perhaps 
be so rapt in the contemplation of the fair and 
good, so enamored of the ideal abstractions of vir- 
tue, as to rise above the low sensualities of his an- 
imal, and the cold speculations of his intellectual 
existence, into something like spiritual life. But 
the mass of mankind need something more palpa- 
ble ; the embodied presence of virtue herself ; — 
the living forms of religious truth set forth in the 
person and the preaching of our Saviour. No 
other influence is capable of grappling, in the case 
of the multitude, with the allurements of passion. 
And this is an influence, which is entirely adequate 
to do it. It has done it in the few cases in which 
the experiment has been fairly tried. 

The Puritans,those pioneers of modern freedom, 
were deeply imbued with the spirit of Christianity. 
Their religion was indeed in some of its features 
austere, stern and unlovely. But it was sincere, 
patriotic and benevolent. The English Revolution 
of 1640 was as exciting and troublesome a time, 
as the French Revolution of 1789. The religion 
of the English patriots saved them from the mad 
excesses of the French Revolutionists. True, 
they executed their King ; but with the stern pa- 
triotism of Brutus, who slew his best lover for the 
good of Rome, and not with the insane thirst for 
royal blobd, that characterized the French regi- 
cides. If their zeal was not always tempered with 
knowledge, it was not infuriated with malice. If 
they contended earnestly, it was for the defence of 
great principles, not the gratification of malign 
passions. They sought redress and not revenge \ 



29 

and if they trampled coronets and mitres in the 
dust, it was not as the insignia of office, but as 
the instruments of tyranny. They loved the King, 
while they hated the despot. They reverenced the 
institutions and ministers of religion, while they 
disdained all spiritual domination. Their excesses 
were their calamity and not their crime ; the ef- 
fervescence of the spirit of liberty working itself 
clear of its impurities, and not the boiling of the 
alembic of hell, spreading pestilence and death all 
around it. They fought for the liberty of constitu- 
tion and law, not the wild license of anarchy ; and 
while they loved a regulated, balanced, practical 
freedom, they shrunk as from the pit of perdition 
from the dark gulph of insubordination and mis- 
rule. And the reason was, the national conscience 
was developed. The gospel had purified their 
hearts, while it had enlightened their understand- 
ings. The men who had learned to render their 
rightful allegiance to the King of kings, were ever 
ready to render toCaesar the things which were his. 
All the constitutional liberty which now exists 
in the world can be traced back directly to the 
religious patriots of 1640. Their enemies them- 
selves being judges, the Puritans formed the bone 
and sinew of English patriotism. Even Hume 
himself, a bigoted monarchist and infidel, admits 
that all the great principles of English liberty, as 
they are now understood and asserted, were devel- 
oped and maintained by the Puritans. And do I 
err in ascribing their consistency and comparative 
moderation to their religious character? Their re- 
ligion made them what they were ; it was the 
principal element in their character, If they had 



30 

not been religious men, they would not have been 
constitutional patriots; if they had not feared God, 
neither would they have regarded man. To the re- 
ligious principles of her patriots England owes 
whatever is glorious in the history of the past, or 
bright in the promise of the future. 

Under such auspices, the foundations of our 
American Republic were laid. Such was the 
school of patriotism in which the fathers of New- 
England were educated. The religion of the Pil- 
grims planted the institutions of learning and lib- 
erty on these shores. Let us not then rob that 
religion of its just praise ; nor ascribe to the dei- 
fied [spirit of liberty, and the mere intelligence of 
our fathers, the precious patrimony we have inher- 
ited. Nor let us vainly suppose, that this inheri- 
tance can be preserved in another spirit, or by 
other means, than those by which it was originally 
gained. The religion of the Puritans, softened 
indeed as it may be and ought to be in some of its 
more rugged features, yet still the religion of the 
Puritans, in all the sublimity and energy of its 
living spirit, neither robbed of its vitality by the 
empiricism of metaphysical refinement, nor redu- 
ced to a mere skeleton by the cold anatomy of a 
baptized skepticism, — the religion of the Puritans, 
as it founded and reared the fabric of our scien- 
tific and civil institutions, so can it alone preserve 
and perpetuate them. 

To the gentlemen of this soeiety, who have 
honored me by making me the organ of their sen- 
timents on this occasion, I can make no more 
grateful return than to express my confidence in 
the soundness and patriotism of their feelings and 



31 

views, and my belief that it is their object and am- 
bition to diffuse through the community correct 
and thorough views of education. May this Soci- 
ety and this place ever be indeed a fountain, from 
which streams shall issue to fertilize and gladden 
the State and the country. And may we all, in 
our several spheres and relations, as educationists, 
or legislators, or citizens, come up to the full con- 
ception of the relations and responsibilities, in 
which we are placed. 

American citizens ! Freemen ! Inheritors of 
institutions planted by the toil, fostered by the 
care, and defended by the blood of the " Fath- 
ers!" Who does not glory in such a birth-right? 
Who is not proud of such a patrimony? Who 
does not wish to preserve and transmit it unimpair- 
ed to posterity ? If there ever was a trust sacred, 
precious, inestimable, committed to men, we are 
the depositaries of that trust. And if we prove 
recreant to it, when shall there ever be such an- 
other? If the sun of American liberty shall set, 
when, where shall another arise? If the fair fabric 
of our republic shall be dissolved, and crumble 
like the ruins of a once glorious antiquity, who 
shall rear again the thrown-down fragments, and 
build again its desolations? If our glorious eagle 
shall be consumed on the funeral pyres of disunion 
and anarchy, where shall another arise like a phoe- 
nix from his ashes in renewed youth and immortal 
vigor? Alas! where can the experiment of a free 
government ever be tried under better auspices? 
When will there ever be in the tide of times a wiser, 
more patriotic or more pious race, than were the 
founders of this republic? If then the American 



32 

republic shall sink in the common grave of those 
which have preceded it, the knell of human liberty 
will have been tolled. There can he no second 
New-England. If the inheritance of our fathers 
be once lost, it is lost forever; the last hope of the 
world dies ; the cycle of free governments will be 
complete ; the unending series of anarchy and suc- 
ceeding despotism will commence. If the Amer- 
ican experiment fails, the question respecting the 
feasibility of popular governments is forever set- 
tled ; it is an experiment for the human race. Its 
success or failure will determine whether man may 
or may not be a self-governing animal, whether 
the withering doctrines of legitimacy, which have 
spread the pall of death over the Eastern conti- 
nent, shall triumph, and the cherished hopes of 
patriots and freemen go out in eternal night, or 
the sun of human liberty arise to shed glory and 
gladness round the earth. 

The decision of this question, so momentous, so 
vast, will turn upon the fundamental principles of 
education, which shall obtain. Let our counsels 
then, while they are animated by zeal, be directed 
by wisdom. Let us freely and fearlessly inquire, 
while we earnestly and zealously inculcate and 
enforce. While our feelings are ardent, let our 
principles be sound ; and when we have done all 
for the intellectual, moral and religious improve- 
ment of the people, which as citizens and men we 
owe to our country and the world, let us send up 
to heaven the dying prayer of the famous Father 
Paul for his country, so aptly quoted by Black- 
stone in the close of his celebrated eulogium on 
the British Constitution, "Esto Perpetua." 



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